Colonel Mustard with the Phone in Wilson's Office
by pgrabia
Summary: A close call acts as a wake-up call.  Written for the Sick!Wilson Fourth Anniversary Pic Challenge on LJ.  Picture prompt # 1: telephone.  H/W pre-slash.  Some coarse language.  Suggestion of violence.


**Title: ****Colonel Mustard with the Phone in Wilson's Office**

**Author:** pgrabia

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D. and I'm making no profit off of this…which really sucks.

**Genre:** Drama, angst, romance, sick!Wilson.

**Characters/Pairings:** House, Wilson, Cuddy, Granger (OC)/ H/W pre-slash.

**Warnings/Spoilers:** Coarse language, suggestion of violence.

**Author's Notes:** Written for the LJ Sick!Wilson Fourth Anniversary Pic Challenge # 1: telephone.

**Rating:** PG (T)

"Where is he?"

"He's in treatment room 3—House! Before you go storming in there, you have to know something!"

"What is it?"

"I lied over the phone. He didn't pass out. His P.A. found him in his office, lying on the floor unconscious. Somebody had attacked him—they think it was a patient he was meeting with. There was a scuffle and then whoever it was picked up his desk phone and beat him over the head with it several times before it fell apart."

"Why did you lie to me about that?"

"I didn't want you killing yourself speeding here on your motorcycle and I knew you would if you knew how badly he'd been hurt."

"Damnit, Cuddy, _how_ hurt?"

"…The blows crushed his skull in the region of his right temporal lobe. The initial x-rays showed that skull fragments had been driven into the grey matter and there was substantial bleeding. He's going to surgery right away."

"I have to be there!"

"Hey! Excuse me! Dr. House, you can't just barge in here—"

"Obviously I can. Get out of my way, Granger!"

"We're about to transfer him to surgery. Dr. Cuddy, get control of him!"

"I would if I could…House, let them near him!"

"Make yourself useful and find out who did this to him, Cuddy."

"Dr. Cuddy, if don't get a rein on him—"

"Dr. Granger, just…let him be. House, it's time to take him down now."

"I'm going down with him."

"Fine."

"I mean, I'm going to scrub in."

"I know that you want to make certain that he receives the best care. So do I. Jerry Maclean is one of the best neurosurgeons on the east coast."

"I don't _care_; I'm still going in there with him."

"Why don't you just watch from the observation gallery…House, what…what did you just do?"

"What does it look like I did?"

"You…kissed him; on the mouth. It wasn't just a peck…"

"Close _your_ mouth, Cuddy, or you'll collect flies. We're going now—call down there and let the OR know I'm scrubbing in."

**##**

"Ahhh…It feels so nice to be home!"

"Just remember that you're here on a trial basis under my supervision. If I think you need to return to the hospital, that's where you're going. So take it easy."

"And _you_ call _me_ a mother hen."

"I'm not a mother hen."

"If the cluck fits—"

"I'm going to go make up the bed in the guest bedroom. Stay out of the kitchen while I'm gone. I'll make dinner."

"House, I think there's something still wrong!"

"What?"

"I thought I just heard you say that you'd make dinner."

"You think that's funny?"

"I did a moment ago…wow. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're wound up like a top. Something's wrong. Sit down and tell me what it is."

"You know how I feel about heart to hearts, Wilson."

"Yes I do. I also know that something is wrong and I won't be able to relax like I'm supposed to until you tell me."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No."

"(Sigh) Fine."

"Don't sit over there—sit on the sofa next to me like you usually do."

"Sure, you remember that but you don't remember the fifty bucks you owe me for losing that bet."

"So sue me. A little bit of amnesia is not bad considering what deficits I could have ended up with."

"Selective amnesia is even better."

"House…I want you to know how much your help and support has meant to be these past couple of months. I admit…I was pretty scared. Knowing that my best friend was there for me…that kept me going. Thank you."

"Ow."

"What hurts?"

"I think I have a cavity from all that sugar you're feeding me."

"You're impossible."

"You're right."

"Seriously…what's up?"

"…"

"(Softly) Hey…it's alright. I'm okay."

"…"

"Don't do that. It's not like it's the first time I've seen you cry."

"I don't cry."

"Right. How foolish of me to think that the tears running down your face mean you're crying."

"Tell me you won't leave again."

"What?"

"Just tell me that you won't leave again after I tell you what's wrong."

"I won't leave again."

"…"

"…"

"You remember how I couldn't go to Cuddy during her kidney crisis? How I had to take Vicodin to be able to be with her through it?"

"How could I forget?"

"Yeah…well, for those two and a half weeks you were comatose I was so drunk and stoned Cuddy wouldn't allow me near you until I pulled myself together."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"And you were afraid that I'd be so upset about that that I would leave our friendship like she did your relationship?"

"…"

"Wait…are you telling me that…House, are you…wow."

"I'll understand if you want me to leave and hire a home care nurse for the next few weeks."

"I don't want you to leave, House. Actually, that's the last thing I want."

"This isn't a joke, Wilson."

"Who's joking? I'm…well, I'm relieved."

"Why?"

"Because you saved me from having to make the first move."

_**~fin~**_


End file.
